Bleeding out
by Hellen says what's up
Summary: Modern AU. Enjolras and Grantaire have been married for about a year. Enjolras is a highly achieved crime detective, out to find a group of dangerous killers on the run. Grantaire respects what Enjolras does for a living and tries to stay out of his hair…but Grantaire has a secret… what would you do if the one you love was hunting you down? e/R, background M/C
1. Posting a new threat

Bleeding out

Modern AU. Enjolras and Grantaire have been married for about a year. Enjolras is a highly achieved crime detective, out to find a group of dangerous killers on the run. Grantaire respects what Enjolras does for a living and tries to stay out of his hair…but Grantaire has a secret… what would you do if the one you love was hunting you down? e/R, background M/C

**Co-written with Jackie-the-barricade-girl who is currently in writing-retirement**

**(I know I haven't finished my other stories, but I WILL I promise. Feel free to remind me because I'm really forgetful.)**

**English was not my first language so do excuse any spelling and/or grammar errors. **

**Mentions of drugs, torture, alcohol, possible character death, mild language and general weirdness**

**Enjolras-Detective inspector (DI)**

**Combeferre-Detective inspector (DI)**

**Marius-Patrol officer**

**Joly-Detective Sergeant (DS)**

**Feuilly-Detective**

**Grantaire-Drug dealer/Serial killer**

**Courfeyrac-Drug smuggler/Serial killer**

**Jehan-Drug dealer (or more of an organizer)**

**Bossuet (Lesgle) - Drug smuggler**

**Eponine-Drug dealer**

_He doesn't wear his ring at work. He says it's because he can't mix his job with his personal life…_

…_but he has no idea…_

Enjolras and Joly stood outside the meeting room. Enjolras leant against the face of the wall, his arms crossed over his chest in a relaxed, but somewhat alert position. Joly was flipping through a series of notes, documents and photographs that all sat on the face of his clipboard, analysing every detail. Enjolras watched as a couple of loose notes dropped onto the floor as the man fumbled with the papers. "The victim's female, white, blonde hair, blue eyes. She was covered in mud when we found her by the side of the lake with several injuries scattered around her body and a stab-wound on the right side. She looks around her early twenties."

"Any idea where she could have come from?" Enjolras asked, absent mindedly fiddling with the collar of his blue shirt.

"Well, she was wearing a necklace with a cross hanging on the chain. When we found her, she had the cross clenched tight in her fist, so she's probably Christian. Also, the necklace was made from pure white gold, so she must come from a wealthy family, or at least a moderately well family."

Enjolras nodded to himself, "Has she told you anything yet?"

"I…don't think she wants to. You can talk to her if you want. I think the doctors are almost done patching her up." Enjolras didn't hesitate to open the door.

There were five hospital beds lined up against the wall, though, only one was being used. The walls were painted an annoying blue that stained your eyes and the room had a horrid stench of burning plastic. Combeferre knelt beside the young woman who sat uncomfortably on the bed, a blue towel draped over her shivering shoulders. Her golden hair had dried off but was still grey from the mud in the lake. She was bare-foot since her shoes and socks were too wet to wear. The officers had given her a set of clean clothes (a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt). Her cross still hung around her neck. Enjolras paced over, his hands behind his back. "How's she doing?" Enjolras asked.

Combeferre didn't reply straight away. He was in the middle of bandaging a wound on the woman's arm. "Physically, she's doing fine. The stab wound didn't cut deep enough to reach her vitals…though, judging by all of these marks on her body…she could have been tortured...or something like that..." Enjolras hummed and looked up at the woman. "She hasn't given anyone her name yet."

"How'd you end up in the river?" Enjolras asked, taking a seat opposite her.

"…I can't tell you." She said. Her voice was barely a whisper.

Enjolras blinked. "Why's that?"

The woman shuffled on the bed, sniffing slightly. "They'll…they'll…"

"Who did this to you?" Enjolras remained rather emotionless.

"…There were these people…in white masks. They were threatening me…said they were going to kill me because…" The woman stopped midsentence, as though she were afraid to continue.

"Do you have any idea why these people were after you?" Enjolras questioned.

"I…no. I don't. They were trying to get money out of me I suppose." Enjolras looked her up and down, as though he didn't completely believe her…but he didn't mention it...not yet... "When they attacked me…they were all wearing masks."

"How many of them?"

"Four or five I think. They were following me when I was walking home from church. They tackled me and threatened me, and then they threw me into the lake when I was knocked out I guess…I think I just got lucky with that though…I was pretty sure they were going to kill me…"

Enjolras nodded and clenched his fists in frustration. "Men in masks…"

The woman nodded, though, it wasn't a question. "Do you mind if I call my dad? I've been gone for about a day now...he's probably freaking out."

"I'm going to need your name if you're going to use the phone." Enjolras said with a slight smile.

"Oh… it's Cosette Fauchelevent."

"Thanks Cosette, we'll get you a phone to use. In the meantime Marius can take care of you. 'Ferre, I need a word." Combeferre stood up and followed Enjolras out of the room. Once he reached the doorway, Enjolras practically dragged the man outside and slammed the door behind them. Combeferre took a moment to straighten his shirt and glasses. "Men. In. Fucking. Masks."

"You sound surprised." Combeferre said as he checked the time on his watch.

"These guys have killed five people in less than two months. What does Cosette have to do with a bunch of filthy drug dealers?" Enjolras hissed.

"They're more than just drug dealers Enjolras... and you don't know who Cosette is. For all we know, she could be one of the Masked men…though; I highly doubt that's the case." Enjolras rubbed his eyes and shook his head. "The Masked men can only run for so long Enjolras. We'll catch them soon enough."

"Damn I hope you're right."

* * *

Grantaire sat in the back seat of the car, his hands shoved in his pockets. Prouvaire was driving the car, whilst Courfeyrac sat in the passenger seat. Eponine sat in between Grantaire and Lesgle in the back seats. It was eleven o'clock at night. The only light source was the glow that illuminated from the passing streetlamps as the car sped down the road. Jehan tapped his finger against the steering wheel, not taking his eyes off the road for even a second. Courfeyrac glanced at Jehan for a second and smirked. "Don't feel bad Jean." He said, a slight smile touching his lips. Jehan kept his eyes on the road. "He got what he deserved."

He blinked as they came to a set of traffic lights and began to slow the car. "…No one deserves _that._"

"It was quick and painless Prouvaire. Probably didn't even feel it." Eponine said, attempting to comfort the man.

"What if that man had a family to go back to? A wife or a child?" Jehan took a deep breath for a moment.

"The man was single. No kids. He lived alone with nothing but his filthy hookers for company. No one will know he even existed." Lesgle smirked and tapped the side of the window with his index finger. "He was a sad guy. Best to put him out of his misery hey?"

"You're not helping." Jehan said under his breath.

Grantaire smiled. "You're such a child Jehan. I thought you were better than that. When you said you wanted to work with us, you knew what you were getting into. So we kill a few people every now and then, it pays the bills. It's the drugs we're after Prouvaire. We don't kill just because we want to."

"R's right. You're one of the Masked men now. You're going to have to start pulling your own weight." Eponine shrugged and lolled her head back against the seat.

"I'm…just not used to it…that's all…I've never killed someone before." Jehan cleared his throat and continued driving. Grantaire's phone then buzzed in his pocket. He awkwardly tried to adjust his position to pull his mobile from his jeans, leaning against the door. He finally managed to pull the phone out. He flipped it on and read through the messages.

_Enjolras: I'm getting off work a little earlier than planned. When do you finish work?_

Grantaire read the text and sighed in dismay.

_Grantaire: I'm going to be late. I'll call you when I get home._

"Can't believe you're fucking married to a cop..." Courfeyrac muttered to himself.

"Got a problem with that Courf'?" Grantaire called from the back.

"Enjolras has been hunting us for what…six months now…sooner or later they're going to find us…"

"Not if he never suspects me." Grantaire stated, glancing down at his phone screen as a message popped up.

_Enjolras: I hardly see you anymore_

_Grantaire: Yeah, I know…don't worry Enj_

_Enjolras: It's like we never have time for each other anymore. It pisses me off._

"And how long can you keep that act up R? Sooner or later, Enjolras is going to find out that you don't have a job…then he's going to wonder why you've been hiding this from him…and why you lied about working in a pharmacy." Grantaire looked down at the floor for a minute. He hated having to lie to the one person he loved in the world…but there's no doubt, Enjolras would turn him in if he told him. Perhaps Grantaire had just fallen in love with the wrong man…

_Grantaire: We'll make time :)_

_Enjolras: Love you_

_Grantaire: Love you too xx_

The car came to a sudden stop and Grantaire almost dropped his phone on the floor. "We're here." Lesgle announced. "Come on guys, the sooner we do this shit, the sooner we can all go home." Grantaire slotted his phone back into his pocket. Courfeyrac handed out clear surgical gloves to everyone. They all reached under their seats and grabbed a mask from under their seats.

_Enjolras, I'm sorry…_

**Thoughts?**


	2. Behind closed doors

Bleeding out part 2

_Enjolras, if you knew of all the evil things I have done…you would never wish to see my face again…you are the one thing that keeps me sane, so for the love of God, please…never go away…_

_Promise me you'll never let me hurt you…_

Grantaire was woken by the sound of Enjolras' irreproachable voice, talking from a far distance. He lazily blinked his eyes open to blinding daylight pouring in through the windowsill. Enjolras was pacing up and down the other side of the room, his right hand holding his phone up to his ear as he spoke and his left hand trying to awkwardly do up his shirt buttons. Grantaire rubbed his eyes against the back of his hand and sat up. Enjolras still hadn't noticed he was awake. He was too caught up in his conversation with the superintendent. "Something going on at work?" he asked with concern as he hopped out of the bed.

"Kind of, but don't worry about it." Enjolras momentarily placed the phone speaker on his shoulder. "I got to go now. Might be a little late home tonight."

R shrugged, trying not to make his disappointment too visible. He was a child at heart really. He hated having to watch his mighty Apollo leave. He watched as Enjolras grabbed his car keys from the blue brass bowl next to the wooden bedside table. "It's cool; just don't make any plans for Friday."

"What's happening on Friday?" he asked, placing the phone back to his ear.

"Um…it's your birthday Enj'." Grantaire chuckled as Enjolras rolled his eyes at his own stupidity.

"Oh, right…that."

"I'm taking you out to diner, whether you like it or not." Grantaire grinned and Enjolras gave a small laugh under his breath. Flawless. "See you later Enj'."

Enjolras gave his husband a quick kiss on the cheek just before he said, "Love you." as he made his way out the door, like he did every morning...Grantaire heard the shuddering sound of the door slamming behind him and R sighed to himself. Once again, left alone without his Enjolras to protect him…not that he needed protecting of course…

"Love you more." He whispered.

* * *

_6:00 AM_

The conference room was rather large with freshly painted walls and new bought furniture from the habitat across the street. In the centre of the room sat a large table with about twelve chairs stood on each side and one chair at the ends. A clear glass vase stood in the centre of the table, twelve blood-red roses sitting within its shell, neatly arranged to perfection. Enjolras sat at the end of the table, reading a document on 'The Masked Men'. No one has ever seen these men (or women), at least not their faces. They were practically phantoms. He had hardly anything to go on other than the fact that they wore white theatre-masks.

Combeferre leant against the edge of the wooden conference table, a cup of coffee in his left hand and a pen in his right. "Cosette tells us she's never been involved with drugs. If that's the case, then why are the masked men involved? All of their previous victims were either drug addicts that had not paid up, or wealthy drug lords that the men had stolen from…Cosette, she just seems like another ordinary catholic woman."

"I'm not entirely convinced that's the truth 'Ferre…I don't know. She seemed somewhat…hesitant to admit her innocence…which makes me wonder…I'll have to speak to her later, but in the meantime, I say we go back to the lake, see if we can find anything useful."

"Agreed, I'll call Marius to get us a car down to the lake." Combeferre pulled his phone from his blazer pocket and dialled the number so fast that Enjolras hardly saw his fingers move.

* * *

Jehan stared down at the bottom of the sink as the icy cold water continued to shower his hands. He scrubbed at his fingernails and the groves between his fingers. The tips possessed several wrinkles that the water was responsible for. Lesgle was outside of the men's bathroom, making sure no one came in whilst they were searching. The masked men where in a bathroom in a rundown gas station not far from the motorway. The place had a horrid stench of rat poison and sewage. The yellowy lights that lit the room flickered every now and then, giving a strange sense of a horror movie set. The floor was damp and wet from the burst pipes in the system.

Grantaire stood at the far end of the bathroom stalls, leaning against the wall. He watched as Jehan vigorously scrubbed at his hands, using up most of the hand soap that Eponine had given him moments ago. "Hey, Prouvaire…you okay?"

Jean was breathing rather rapidly, as though he'd just run a five mile sprint. He spoke so soundlessly it was barely a whisper. "I'll never be able to get this blood off my hands…but it's not the blood…it's the guilt. The guilt is something that will stay on my chest until the day I die."

Grantaire frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. "The people we kill…they're a whole lot more fucked up than we are you know. Think of it this way. By ridding the world of these disgusting life forms, we're doing the world a favour."

"No one deserves to die Grantaire." Jehan gripped onto the sides of the sink so tight that his knuckles turned white.

"Holy shit…guys, I found it!" Eponine called from the stall farthest from the door. The others (aside from Jehan and Lesgle) came around to the stall. The back tiles of the stall were loose and Eponine had managed to kick them down. The tiles had hidden about fifty blocks of cocaine, all compressed together into a wall.

Courfeyrac whistled. "That…it a lot of stuff."

Grantaire gave a slight smirk at the notion. "No shit."

"We should probably divide this stuff up." Eponine suggested. "We can split it up into smaller groups, each take a load home tonight and then bring it over to Courf's place tomorrow for selling. "

"Sounds like a plan." Grantaire said in agreement.

"Except, one small detail." Courfeyrac rolled his eyes, a glimpse of bitterness in the way he spoke. "Grantaire lives with a cop. More specifically, he lives with Enjolras, the world famous 'high class' detective! There's no way he won't notice that you've got a sack load of drugs just lying around in the house!"

"I'll hide it." Grantaire stated. "And my personal life with Enjolras is none of your concern Courf'. So just shut the fuck up about it! I can handle it."

_It's just…one night...I'll have to put it somewhere where Enjolras would never think of looking…._

* * *

By the time Grantaire made it back to the flat, it was two hours past midnight. It'd taken a while to get all the drugs out of that tiny bathroom stall, and then having to divide it into different bags. Grantaire managed to fit his lot into two medium sized gym-bags. He decided to place the drugs in the storage closet. Enjolras hardly ever went inside there, and even when he did, it was too dark to see anything. Grantaire threw the bags into the closet and closed the door shut,

Not realising he'd dropped a small sachet of cocaine on the floor in the corridor during his haste.

As he walked back into his bedroom, he noticed Enjolras was already fast asleep. The only sound in the room was of Enjolras' light breathing as he slept. Grantaire crept over to his side of the bed, knowing that the slightest noise could wake the man. He quickly changed into his night garments and snuck into the bed. He moved as close as he could to his beloved Enjolras. So close that he could smell the scent of his hair. A mixture of honey and chocolate. It gave R the sense of security.

_But that security would not last forever. Sooner or later, everything dies._


End file.
